rewrite an ending (or two)
by LMoriarty
Summary: Mike Ross tries to quit. Things happen.


Mike was a complete fail when it came to relationships.

He tried really hard, of course, but his efforts always seemed to fall flat. _Always_. No matter who he was into — Rachel, Jenny, Tess, everyone else he ever fell for — things eventually went to shit. Trevor and him were probably the worst it ever got, considering the way that turned out. But this— this was going to be _bad_.

Because this time, Mike hadn't fallen for a friend or a stranger or his best friend's girlfriend. He had fallen for his goddamn _boss_.

Under normal circumstances, he probably would've quit or requested a transfer. Thing was, though, these weren't _normal circumstances_. Mike was a fraud, had never even gone to Harvard— and Harvey knew it, had always known it. And then he _protected_ him, even though it would have been so much easier to pretend that he hadn't known. When Jessica had wanted to fire him, Harvey told her that he would quit, said that she got both of them or neither of them.

Of _course_ Mike fell for him.

Anyone with a brain would have.

Harvey was... well, he was beautiful. There was nothing special about him, not really, but it was all of the little things that stole Mike's heart; the movie quotes, the fancy suits, the stupid "see, that's funny because" jokes. Mike even managed to love the "this is me... and this is you" cracks as well as all of the ridiculous puppy comments.

Mike just loved _him_.

But he couldn't tell Harvey. He couldn't tell him so he took to avoiding him, which was completely impossible considering the fact that Mike literally worked with the man everyday. He tried to cozy up to Louis, but he still didn't know Mike's secret which made it so _awkward_ that he had to stop almost immediately, and honestly it was getting to the point where Mike was genuinely wondering if it was better to just quit.

"What's going on with you?" Donna questioned, stopping Mike from entering Harvey's office. "And I know what you're thinking: this is Donna, she should already know. But I don't. I know you were avoiding Harvey, I know you were getting closer to Louis— I know everything. I just don't know _why_."

"I've got no clue what you're talking about," Mike lied, fiddling with the resignation letter in his hand.

Donna noticed his unease, knew it had something to do with the sheet he was clutching. With a flourish of her hand, she snatched it from him.

Mike reached forwards, tried to get it back, but— it was too late. She looked at him, frown beginning to form. "You're going to _quit_?"

"Resign," he corrected.

"No, Mike, this is you _quitting_ ," Donna said. He already knew that, of course, but it hurt to hear it out loud— especially from her. "After everything Harvey has done for you, you're going to just _leave_?"

"I'm leaving _because_ of Harvey."

"What are you _talking_ ab— oh. You... shit, Mike, do you love him?"

And the thing was, Mike could have said no. Donna wouldn't believe him, of course, but she would give him his letter back, would let him leave it on Harvey's desk. He could have said no, and then that would be it— Mike would leave, would vanish from their lives forever.

Mike _could have said no_.

But he didn't.

"I didn't mean to fall for him," Mike said, feebly. "I just— he saved my life, Donna. And I don't mean he took a bullet for me or something, because Harvey is not the type of guy that would do that, but if he hadn't hired me... even if I managed to ditch the cops, sticking with Trevor — which is what I would have done, okay, and even _I_ know that — would have gotten me killed."

"Mike—"

" _I didn't mean to_ ," he repeated. It was less of an explanation this time; more of a plea. Mike needed her to understand, needed her to know that he hadn't planned to fall for Harvey. "But I can't— I can't stay here. And it's not just because— if I get caught, Harvey's going to be disbarred and maybe he'll even go to jail and I can't do that to him."

Donna glanced back down at Mike's resignation letter. "He deserves to know," she pointed out. "Harvey may be emotionally constipated, but he cares about you and if you just quit — if you don't tell him how you feel — he's going to wonder what he did wrong for the rest of his life and Harvey _definitely_ doesn't deserve that."

"I know that," Mine assured her and _god_ this was so much harder than he thought it would be. "Harvey doesn't— he deserves better than _me_ , okay? He put his career — his _life_ — in danger for a complete screw up and I can't ever repay him for that. I can't. But I _can_ remove the risk. If I leave, he's in the clear!"

"If you leave," corrected Donna, "he'll be devastated."

"Who'll be devastated?" asked Harvey, startling both Mike and Donna. "Come on, you two were gossiping like little girls— did you _really_ not expect me to come over?"

Donna handed the resignation letter to Mike, even though she clearly wanted to give it to Harvey instead. "You have a decision to make, kid," Donna said, even though there hadn't been before she confronted him, "Don't be stupid." And then she left him there... with Harvey.

The lawyer hesitated, trying to decipher what Donna meant. When he couldn't, Harvey led Mike into his office. Normally, he went straight to the couch, but this time Mike went to the window. He really would miss the view. Mike tightened his grip on the letter, not sure if he really should give it to Harvey. Leaving would be— it would _suck_.

"Mike," began Harvey, sounding _concerned_ of all things, "are you—"

Mike handed him the sheet.

Harvey scanned it, concern slowly morphing into confusion and then into _anger_ with each word he read. He looked back at his associate, and Mike expected him to start yelling but— "Why?"

"I'm sorry," he said.

" _Why_?" repeated Harvey. "What did I— I've trusted you and _protected_ you even though I didn't have to, and you're going to repay me by _leaving_?"

Mike shook his head. He didn't know how to properly explain his reasoning, but Mike couldn't leave if Harvey was mad at him. He just couldn't. "No, that's not what I— I'm doing this _for_ you."

" _For_ me?" he scoffed. "You're doing this for _you_. You're a scared little boy, Mike, and you're doing what scared little boys do: you're running." And that— well, it hurt. Mike had given his all to his job, and maybe there were a few times when his nerves got the best of him but this... Mike was leaving to _protect_ Harvey, just like Harvey was constantly protecting Mike.

"What happens if I get caught?" Mike asked, pointedly. He didn't wait for an answer, continuing despite the desperation that had begun to seep into his voice. "I'll be arrested and I'll go to jail— and that's fine, Harvey, because I've accepted it. What I _haven't_ accepted is what happens next: they'll bring _you_ into it. And I'll deny your involvement, I will, but they'll keep digging and digging and— eventually, they'll find something. I don't know if you'll be disbarred or if you'll be arrested or... shit, I don't know what'll happen to you, okay, but whatever happens is on _me_ and I can't deal with that."

"If you get caught," said Harvey, "you _will_ give me up. I don't care about the consequences, Mike, I care about _you_ and if admitting that I knew you were a fraud will get you a lighter sentence then _you will do it_."

Mike went to refuse, went to force his resignation anyways, but— Harvey just told him, point blank, that he _cared about him_.

"Can you... repeat that?" Mike asked.

He paused for a moment before: "If you get caught, you—"

"No," he interrupted, "not that. The other thing. About... caring."

Harvey looked at him for a moment, face completely blank, before he sighed; let a hint of emotion seep into his features. "After everything that you and I have been through, did you really think I didn't care about you? Mike, I don't threaten to quit for just anyone. I've never even done that for Donna."

"You mean you've never _had_ to do that for Donna," Mike corrected, because that was an important distinction, "because _she isn't a fraud_."

"My point remains, kid," Harvey assured him, and god Mike wanted _so desperately_ to believe that meant that he was special, that maybe the lawyer felt even a fraction of what he did, but—

But Mike Ross was not an idiot.

And he knew better.

"I'm sorry," Mike said, "but I can't risk you."

"I'll tell everyone," the words came out rushed; a last second attempt to stop him from leaving, of course, and Mike should have completely dismissed it... but he faltered, waited for more. Harvey steeled his resolve and kept going, "If you leave, I will tell _everyone_ that you're a fraud, that I knew from the get go. If you leave, _I leave with you_."

"No," Mike said, sounding awfully confident, "you won't."

"Yes," corrected Harvey, "I will."

"No, Harvey, you won't, because I'm _asking you not to_ ," he said. Mike offered him a smile, but— it wasn't fake, not really; just sad. "And if you were telling the truth, if you really do care about me, then you'll respect my wishes. But if you don't, then I'll get arrested and you probably will too and I will _never_ forgive you."

"You said, before, that you've accepted that you will likely end up in jail," he pointed out, maybe to be an asshole or maybe because he was actually confused, "but now you're telling me that you'll be upset. Make up your mind, kid."

"I'll only be upset if you're in there with me."

Harvey sat down, dismissing any ounce of remaining professionalism by grabbing onto Mike's forearm and pulling him down onto the couch. "I know that you're scared, or nervous, or— _something_ , but god, Mike. Did you really think that I would let you go? That I wouldn't fight for you? I _told_ you that nobody leaves me, you can't possibly have forgotten."

"You were talking," Mike said, "about a client."

"Back then? Yes, I was," he confirmed, "But now? You're not just a fraud anymore, Mike. You're a friend."

He knew that Harvey meant it, even if he was only telling him because he thought it'd keep him there. It wouldn't. "Look, Harvey, me leaving this firm isn't me leaving _you_. And I'm not going to be the reason my friend goes to prison," Mike said. "I don't think you're really— you don't— I can't be the reason that the guy I— fuck. Okay, listen, I quit. Okay? _I quit_. And you can't stop me or change my mind, so can you just— can you just say you'll miss me?"

"I'll miss you," said Harvey, immediately. He attempted to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. Mike was surprised by how _tired_ Harvey suddenly appeared. "Mike, you have been— amazing to work with... so don't go. I _don't want you to go_." He hated to be vulnerable, Mike knew, and yet there he was, heart on his sleeve.

Not even Mike Ross could leave after that.

"Okay," he said. "I won't— okay. But if I get caught, Harvey, I'm not going to tell them you knew."

"We can talk about that later," decided Harvey. "I want to know what you meant by 'I can't be the reason that the guy I'. More to the point, the guy you _what_?"

Mike paled. He had thought — _hoped_ — that Harvey hadn't heard him say that. "The uh, guy I'm friends with," he offered, praying to _something_ that he'd buy it.

He didn't.

"Try again," Harvey suggested.

"The guy I—" Mike faltered. "I can't— Harv— don't make me say it out loud."

Harvey grabbed onto his hand, let their fingers entwine. A sign of comfort, of course, but Mike wished he would just _let go_ because this wasn't fucking fair and why did he have to love him so much? "Nothing you say," he promised, "will change anything."

"Love."

He paused. "What?"

"The guy I— you know, that," his face was burning, but Mike knew he couldn't leave it like that, even if he _was_ completely mortified. "I can't be the reason that the guy I _love_ gets arrested."

"Mike—"

"I didn't mean for it to happen," he justified, "but you can't— I mean, it's not like you can control who you fall for. And I— well, it's probably not even love, just, like, adoration or something. I'm not—"

Harvey tried again. "Mike—"

"—in love with you. Well, I am, but probably not actually, you know? So you don't have to freak out," which, coincidentally, was exactly what Mike was starting to do, "but if you're uncomfortable, I'll quit. Again. That was actually one of the reasons I was going to, you know. I couldn't, uh, suppress it as much as I needed to. But—"

" _Mike_."

Mike stopped, stared at his boss. He was waiting for the disgust, for the hatred, for the _get out_ , but—

Harvey was still holding his hand.

"I'm not going to fire you, and you're not going to quit," Harvey said. "If you want time off, I'll give it to you, but you can't— you can't _leave_ just because I found out that you're gay."

"I'm not gay," said Mike.

Harvey paused. "You just told me that you're in love with me," he reminded him.

Mike hesitated, realizing with a start that, for all he knew, Harvey was one of the people that thought bisexuals were frauds, which— he was, but that had nothing to do with who he slept with. "No, I know, but I'm not— I'm bi," he explained anyways, "I like both genders, which you already know, I guess, considering I've dated women while working here, and obviously I'm into you."

"I know what bisexual means, kid," he said. "I've never bothered to do the whole labeling thing — never saw the point — but I'm on the same boat as you. Well, my boat is actually quite a bit fancier than yours; better suits, wider ties, fantastic hair... that sort of thing."

Mike ignored the jolt of hope that had raced through him at the words, very aware that Harvey was still his boss. He reached his free hand — his other too busy _holding Harvey's hand_ — up to his hair, dragged his fingers through the strands. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing," said Harvey. "Mine is just better."

The sad thing was that he wasn't necessarily wrong, either.

"Now that you know," began Mike, hesitantly, "is this — you and I working together — going to be weird?"

"It depends on how we proceed," admitted Harvey. "We could pretend this conversation never happened, or we could talk things through to figure out everything about your attraction to me, or—"

"Is there any option that won't be completely mortifying?" asked Mike.

" _Or_ ," repeated Harvey, "we could figure out how it would work."

Mike... didn't know what he was trying to imply. "How _what_ would work?"

Their eyes locked.

"Us."

"Us," echoed Mike. "But you— you don't like me like that."

"This is me," he said, finally, and held up his hand, not bothering to adjust the height when he added, "and this is you. We're equals, Mike." Harvey smiled, inched a little closer. "I'd kiss you to prove my point, kid, but the entire floor would see," he said. "Now, that would be hot, but I think we should talk some things over so I have a solid argument when Jessica calls me into her office to yell about regulations and this firm's view on PDA."

Mike's face fell. He didn't want to get Harvey in trouble. "She'll be mad?"

"She'll be _furious_ ," he corrected, "but she'll still congratulate me before I leave her office."

"Why would she— I mean, if she's mad, why would she be happy for us?" asked Mike.

Harvey smiled — really, truly smiled and _oh_ that should have been a crime — and tightened his grip on Mike's hand. "Jessica is a complicated woman, Mike, but she's supported me throughout my entire career; she knows better than most that I would never do _this_ ," he gestured between them, "if it didn't mean something."

"What even _is_ this?" Mike looked away, pulled his hand from Harvey's. "You've never showed any sign of being even _remotely_ into me until I tried to quit, so if this is some sort of ploy to get me to stay... tell me. Because I _do_ love you, Harvey, or at least I think I do, and I don't deserve that."

"It's not," Harvey assured him. "Look, Mike, I have _never_ been in a serious relationship. I mean, there was Scottie, but— my point is, this is going to be hard. We're going to fight, probably a lot. We'll need to figure out how to act at work. But I'm willing to try if you are."

"I suck at relationships," Mike admitted. "You should know that before we get too serious. _If_ we get too serious. I always try really hard — too hard, according to Trevor — but, I don't know, work has always come first for me. This job, especially. It's why, despite everything, my relationships with both Jenny and Rachel failed. You're my boss, so it might be different, but— still, you deserve to know."

"I thought," said Harvey, "that you were no longer talking to Trevor."

"What?" Mike asked, confused. "I'm not. That's just— it's what Trevor told me when we broke up. That I tried too hard. We stayed friends, obviously, and before you made me ditch him we still occasionally hooked up, but that relationship sort of fizzled out. My fault, apparently. But, I don't know, I guess I'm kinda glad, considering the way our friendship ended." He still couldn't believe that it was his best friend who told Jessica Pearson — his boss, or rather his boss' boss — his secret.

"You were in a relationship with him," Harvey sounded confused, and maybe even a little bit hurt.

"Yes," confirmed Mike. Had he really never mentioned it before? He could have sworn— there had to have been a comment somewhere, something that indicated his relationship with Trevor wasn't entirely platonic.

Harvey swallowed, ran a hand through his hair. "When we first met, were the two of you—"

He looked away. "Sleeping together? Yeah, we were," Mike admitted. "And to answer your next question, yes, we probably would have continued to do so if you didn't tell me to stay away from him— but Harvey, _please_ tell me that you're not actually upset about this. It's all in the past, okay? _He's_ in the past."

"I _ruined_ your relationship, told you to stay away from your _boyfriend_ and you had to listen to me because you didn't want to lose your job," he said. "And you're just— okay with that?"

"He was dating Jenny, Harvey," Mike admitted, quietly. "He was dating Jenny and I was fucking him and it meant _nothing_. To either of us."

"But it _used_ to mean something."

"Of _course_ it used to mean something. Once upon a time, it meant the world, Harvey. But," Mike reached forwards, grabbed his hand, "that's not what this is about, is it? You're trying to pull away, make me hate you. Bringing up Trevor, well, that's a pretty good route to take, and... well, I actually might have been offended if I didn't know you as well as I do."

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are," said Mike. "But it's okay, because I understand. You told me that you liked me because, well, you do, but at the same time... you don't think you're emotionally ready for a committed relationship, do you?"

"Mike, when I said I wanted to give us a try, I _meant it_ ," Harvey assured him, "Yes, I have some issues that are going to make this even harder than it already would have been, but if we manage to get past them— you and I, we're going to do just fine." And that? That was a huge step for Harvey. Even though it was just admitting that he wasn't perfect, it was still _major_.

"Are we going to, uh," Mike began, softly, "tell people?" He hesitated for a moment before tacking on a, "We don't have to if it'll make you uncomfortable, though."

"I would like to," admitted Harvey, "but you need to keep in mind that the bylaws... they forbid this. So even if we tell people, we can't tell everyone." He knew that wasn't what Mike wanted to hear, so he added, "But we _can_ tell the people that matter. Donna, for one, but I'm sure she already knows considering she's been listening to our conversation, as well as Jessica, and our families..."

Mike tried not to think of the fact that he didn't have a family, not anymore. Tightening his grip on Harvey's hand, he asked, "And what about Louis?"

"He _wrote_ the bylaws, Mike, and he's not exactly a fan of either of us," said Harvey. "We can't risk it." That wasn't necessarily true — Louis had always been a fan of Mike's, and had, to a degree, idolized Harvey — but his point still remained: Louis _wrote the bylaws_.

"I know, okay?" he replied, but he wasn't giving up just yet. "I _know_ it might be a stupid decision to tell him, but he's— look, I just, I want this to work, I do, but if we're going to do this, and I mean _actually_ do this, then I'm not keeping it from the people I love."

Harvey stared at him. "And you love _Louis_?"

"Not like that, Harvey, not like _this_ ," he glanced down at their hands, "but yes. I mean, it's stupid, but... I care about Louis Litt. I respect him. This firm is, well, it's his life, and—"

"A lot of people care about this firm," said Harvey, "including you, me, and Jessica herself."

"But none of us care about it like he does," Mike said. "Oh, sure, I love this job, and Jessica brought you through law school herself just so you could work here, but— not even _Jessica_ cares as much as he does. It's her firm, but it's... I don't know, it's _more_ than that to Louis. And you can't— you can't _not_ respect him, okay, you can't, because he deserves better than that, and I just," he faltered, tried to find words that fit how he felt, "I just wish he _knew_ that."

Harvey's face softened, like he understood, but he didn't, he _couldn't_ , "Mike—"

"So I'm going to tell him," Mike decided. He nodded, tried to convince himself that it was a good idea. "If we do this, okay, I'm telling him about us."

"If that's what you want," said Harvey, "then we can find a way to make it work. But Mike— look, I understand that you respect him or whatever, but Louis once _blackmailed_ you just to get a client, so I have to ask: _why_ , exactly, do you respect him?"

"Because when Louis recorded you calling him pathetic, I didn't stand up for him. Hell, I _agreed_ with you. And he had to listen to that, to his _friends_ insulting him," said Mike. He knew that Donna was listening to their conversation, knew that she had been the entire time, but... maybe that was a good thing, no matter how intrusive it happened to be. She needed to hear what he had to say, too. "So he went straight on over to Hardman's side, and god, Harvey. We all treated him like shit for it, but we never once stopped to consider that maybe it was _our fault_ — and it _was_."

"Wait, is this your way of trying to make up for _my_ attitude towards him?" asked Harvey. "Because—"

"Tell me you don't respect him," demanded Mike. "Tell me you don't care about him, tell me you don't want him to know, tell me his support doesn't fucking matter to you. Because if you can do that, then god, Harvey, we won't tell him. But I don't think you can."

"You're right, I can't," Harvey confirmed, quietly. "I suppose we'll be telling him as well, then."

Mike stared down at their hands. There was something else that they needed to tell Louis, but the thought of _another_ person knowing his secret— he closed his eyes, tried to think of the outcome. Louis would be mad, he reasoned, but he could get over it. Couldn't he? "Louis deserves to know the truth about me, too," he said.

"No, he doesn't," he denied, and Mike wondered if he actually believed that. "He'll make you quit, and you know I can't let that happen."

"There's nothing that Louis can do that he hasn't already tried," Mike assured him. "I'm not going to be chased off, not when working here means seeing my — partner? — every day."

"I don't care what label we use as long as you don't go around calling me your boyfriend; I'm too old for that," Harvey told him. Then, he added, "But Mike, while I may have accepted that we're going to tell Louis about our relationship, I'm _never_ going to agree to telling him that you're a fraud."

"Then," Mike said, carefully, "I suppose it's a good thing that it's my secret to tell."

" _Our_ secret," corrected Harvey. "I hired you, remember?"

He shook his head. " _My_ secret," Mike said, again. "And besides, everyone else knows. You, Rachel, Donna, Jessica... everyone _but_ Louis."

"For good reason," Harvey pointed out.

"Maybe, but keeping this a secret from Louis is _killing me_ ," said Mike. And it was. He couldn't fall asleep without being bombarded with nightmares of prison cells and orange jumpsuits, couldn't walk inside Pearson Specter without being afraid that he'd leave in handcuffs, couldn't look at Harvey — or Donna or Rachel or Jessica — and think about anything other than the fact that they might go to jail and it'd be Mike's fault. "This secret is killing me," he repeated, "and I can't do it anymore. I can't keep _pretending_ , not around the people that matter. And _Louis_ matters."

"Can we have this conversation some other time?" Harvey asked, finally. "I understand your point of view, in a way, but I need time to actually think about this, and I can't do that when we're arguing."

"Okay," agreed Mike, because he was running out of things to say himself. "Should I get back to work, then? I know we don't have a case, but I'm sure Louis has something that I can work on."

"Actually," he said, "I really want to talk more about us."

Mike smiled. "You have no idea how much you calling us an us makes me want to kiss you."

"I wouldn't necessarily object to that," Harvey admitted, "but allow me to call your attention to the glass windows."

"...There's always the elevator."

"What are we waiting for, then?" he commented, holding back a grin. Within seconds, Harvey was on his feet, pulling Mike up with him. He probably should have let go of his hand, then, but he didn't, instead electing to drag Mike from his office. (He had spent more than enough time not kissing Mike.)

Of course, Louis had to go and ruin their plans.

As soon as they had gotten inside of the elevator, Louis had spotted them, and had managed to reopen the door right before it shut close. "Mike, I've been looking for you. I know you don't have a case, so I've got a stack of files that you need to—" Louis paused. "Why are you two holding hands?"

Mike pulled away as quickly as he could, trying to come up with an excuse. Sure, he had been the one that wanted to tell Louis, but now that he was there in front of him— it suddenly seemed like a really bad idea. Except it was too late to change their mind now, and they both knew it. "We haven't told Jessica yet, as this is fairly new, but," Harvey grabbed his hand again, entwining their fingers together. He didn't say anything else, but honestly he didn't need to. His point was made.

Louis' eyes narrowed. "In case you've forgotten, the bylaws—"

"—can be changed," Harvey reminded him, and then quietly tacked on a soft, "by you."

"Is _that_ why you're telling me? Because you need something from me?" he scoffed. "Well, I won't do it. There's a reason partners and associates can't date, and—"

"That's why _Harvey_ is telling you," Mike said, cutting him off, "but it's not why _I_ am."

Louis paused. "What do you mean?"

"I—" he faltered, tensing. Mike knew what to say, knew how to say it, but he couldn't— he couldn't get the words out, couldn't think, couldn't _breathe_. "I, uh, I—"

"You know, next time you try to make me feel better, maybe do more than stutter," Louis spat. "Now, you have work to do, and you're not leaving this building until you do it, so you might as well send this back upstairs."

"Mike," interrupted Harvey, cautiously. He knew that Mike had already planned out what to say, even if he hadn't expected to say it so soon. The fact that he had just stumbled over his words was... worrying. "Mike, are you okay?"

"I can't— I can't breathe, Harvey, I can't, I can't breathe, I can't—" he was practically hyperventilating, hands shaking as he pressed them to his chest. "Harvey, _I can't breathe_." His breaths were ragged, shaking, and _way_ too fast, which meant something was wrong, something was _seriously_ wrong. Mike wasn't sure what happened next — maybe he lost his footing, maybe his legs gave out, he didn't know — but next thing he knew, he was on the ground.

Alarmed, Louis looked towards Harvey. " _Do something_ , you idiot," he hissed. Even if he was annoyed at the two of them, Louis had always liked Mike, and seeing him like this— honestly, it was a little frightening. (It was actually a _lot_ frightening, not that Louis would ever admit that out loud.)

"I don't— what am I supposed to do?" he asked him, very clearly worried. Harvey liked to pretend that he didn't care about anyone and everyone at the firm knew that, but as he stared down at Mike— it was suddenly very obvious that it was just a façade. "Is he having a heart attack?"

Louis stared at him like he was insane. "No," he said, "he's having a _panic attack_. So what you need to do, Harvey, is calm him down. Actually, you need to make him hold his breath. The easiest way to do that would be to kiss him, and you probably don't exactly want to do that in front of me, but—"

 _But this is Mike Ross_.

Harvey grabbed onto Mike's shirt, curling the fabric around his fist as he pulled him in. He had expected some resistance, but Mike seemed to be too busy freaking out to realize what was happening, which made it much easier for Harvey to lean in and press his lips to Mike's. It wasn't exactly how he pictured their first kiss — which Harvey supposed was a given, considering they were in an elevator and _Louis_ was watching it happen — but he could feel Mike start to calm down and that was what mattered.

(That didn't, of course, stop him from noticing just how soft Mike's lips were.)

"You okay, kid?" Harvey asked him as he pulled away, having decided that he'd relaxed enough.

Mike debated how to answer. He was tempted to say something like _I'm not a kid_ or _if I was a kid what you just did was illegal_ , but considering Louis was listening... that perhaps wasn't the best idea. So. Was he okay? His heart was still racing, still pounding in his chest, but it had slowed down enough that he was able to function, which he supposed was good. But was he _okay_? Well, no, not really. (But it definitely helped, he decided, that he was so close to Harvey.)

"What just happened?" Mike asked him instead of answering.

"Panic attack," said Harvey.

"Right, right, of course," he nodded, having already guessed at that, "Didn't know kissing could help, that's definitely a new one for me, but... thanks, Harvey."

"Has this happened before?" Louis asked, concerned.

"Uh, yeah. After my parents died, I got them all the time," he explained. "Couldn't get into a car for years, still can't get behind the driver's seat. It's why I never got my license. I thought— did I never warn either of you that this might happen?"

"No," Harvey said, shortly. He had been so worried, so concerned, and Mike had _known_ that it could've happened? He should've fucking told them, should've warned them, should've—

"Sorry," Mike offered, sheepishly. He ducked his head, trying to recall what had set him off. "Oh! Um, Louis, what I was trying to say before I freaked out was that the reason I didn't care you found out is because, um—"

"Mike, stop," Louis said. "It's okay. I'm going to change the bylaws. I'll have to talk it over with Jessica first, after you tell her, and Harvey won't be able to dictate your bonuses anymore, but... neither of you will have to quit. I mean, god, Mike. You two being together might have just saved your life, I'm not about to be the one that puts an end to it."

"Thank you, but I still have to say this," he said. "I know you think we hate you. Considering the way we treated you when you were on Hardman's side, I can't blame you for that. But we don't. Or, at the very least, _I_ don't. Because, just for the record, I respect you. And it's _because_ I respect you that I'm coming clean. If you could please shut down the elevator for a moment," Mike closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering all of his courage, "that would be fantastic."

"Mike," Harvey wasn't about to argue with him, not now, not after what just happened, but he _had_ to voice his concerns, "you just had a _panic attack_."

"He deserves to know," Mike said, as Louis stopped the elevator. "And I'm sorry — god, I'm _so sorry_ — because I know that you still wanted to talk about this, but I can't hide it anymore. Not after what just happened."

"You're not sorry," he replied, but he didn't really seem angry. "If you were, you wouldn't be doing this."

"Doing _what_?!" questioned Louis, annoyed that he was being left out of something that seemed rather severe. When neither of them answered — too caught up in their now silent argument — he added, "What the _hell_ are the two of you talking about?"

"I'm a fraud," announced Mike. The words came easier than he thought they would; they didn't get stuck in his throat, didn't have to be forced out. He wondered if that meant he had resigned himself to his fate. Probably not, Mike reasoned, as that would imply he knew what his fate was going to be. And, the truth was, he had no clue how Louis would react. "I never went to Harvard, Louis. I never went to _any_ law school. I'm a fraud."

"This is a joke," said Louis, flatly. "There is _no way_ that Harvey would hire someone that didn't go to law school, regardless of his sometimes unorthodox ways of fixing clients' problems."

"Actually," Harvey cut in, somewhat tentative (which was more for Mike's benefit than his own), "he's telling you the truth."

Louis stared at him. "You _knowingly_ hired a fraud."

"Without hesitation," he confirmed. Harvey helped Mike back up onto his feet, and didn't let go of his hand once he had. His way of showing support, maybe. "Mike impressed me, Louis. We argued about the law, about the way something would turn out, and he outsmarted me. I, of course, had let him sit in front of my computer, so he would have a chance of winning against me, and I was sure that that was why he succeeded. I said as much. Turns out, Mike had been playing a game of cards."

"He beat you," he echoed, incredulous, "while playing cards."

"Yes," confirmed Mike. After a moment of silence, he tried to figure out how Louis was feeling, "I know that you're extremely angry with the two of us right now, but—"

"You're right, I _am_ angry. This firm means everything to me, Mike. The fact that you — a _fraud_ , for fuck's sake — were allowed to work here, well, I'm not going to lie: it disgusts me. It makes me _sick_ to know that I've worked with you, that I've _trusted_ you, and that you've lied to me, every single goddamn day," Louis spat. Mike had expected his reaction, to a degree, but it still hurt to hear. "But... it wasn't just _me_ you lied to. Jessica, Donna, Rachel— you lied to them, too. God, how can you stand to look in the mirror?"

Mike and Harvey exchanged a glance. "I lied to you, yes, but— Louis, everyone knows but you."

"Everyone," Louis repeated.

"Donna, Rachel, Jessica," Harvey expanded. "Everyone you just named."

"And is there a reason you saw fit not to tell me?" he asked, offended.

"I didn't want _anyone_ to know, Louis," Mike told him. "It had nothing to do with me trusting them more than you, I swear. Donna knew from the get go, because she listens to all of our conversations, Jessica found out when Trevor — my ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend — got mad at me and told her, and Rachel found out shortly after she was rejected from Harvard." He paused, scanning Louis' face for... something, anything, that indicated he wasn't about to go to the bar and get him arrested. "Will you ever be able to forgive me?"

Louis appeared to consider the question for a moment— which was surprising, seeing as Mike had expected an immediate no. "Were you planning on telling me before you informed me that you respected me?" he asked, finally.

"I wanted to," confessed Mike, "but not today. Harvey and I— we were going to keep talking it over, figure out what to say and how to say it. But then I had my panic attack and I just, I couldn't wait. So, in a way, yes, we were planning on telling you, but no, I didn't tell you I respected you _because_ I was eventually going to tell you."

Harvey squeezed his hand. "What was it you said earlier? 'He deserves better than that'?" he chuckled, before returning his focus to Louis. "No, Mike definitely didn't tell you he respected you just to soften you up."

"Of course _you'd_ say that," scoffed Louis. "You're screwing him."

"You can ask Donna, if you'd like," Mike told him. "She can confirm what I said. If you'd like exact quotes, I said, 'It's her firm, but it's... I don't know, it's _more_ than that to Louis. And you can't— you can't _not_ respect him, okay, you can't, because he deserves better than that, and I just, I just wish he _knew_ that.' I was kind of rambling, I suppose. And we're not screwing."

"You're dating," he pointed out.

"Yes," said Mike. "We haven't, however, had sex."

"Not that it's any of your business," Harvey added, "but when I said this was new, I wasn't kidding. We discussed our... feelings... just today, and decided to get together probably an hour ago."

"Are you going to try to get me fired?" asked Mike, curiously. He wouldn't be offended — or particularly surprised — if Louis said yes, but he wanted to be able to prepare himself accordingly.

Louis looked at him, silently. He seemed to actually be debating his options, which— it didn't mean that Mike was safe, didn't mean that at all, but it _did_ mean that he had a chance. "I don't know, Mike," Louis decided. "I don't know."

"Don't do that," he pleaded. "Oh god, please don't do that. Just make a decision and tell me, Louis. I can't deal with an 'I don't know'." Mike closed his eyes, resting his head against the side of the elevator. He could _feel_ another panic attack coming on, but he couldn't let that happen, couldn't let Harvey think he was weak. "So. Are you going to try to get me fired? Just say yes or no."

He hesitated. "I really don't—"

" _Please_ ," Mike whispered.

Louis stopped. Stopped talking, stopped moving. He just stood there, and _thought_. Mike would have loved to know exactly what was going on in his mind, but even as it was he had a pretty good idea— on one hand, they'd all be in trouble if it ever came out, but on the other, this was Jessica's firm and she didn't seem to have a problem with his lack of degree. At least, he hoped that was what Louis was thinking, because if it wasn't then he would probably end up saying yes. Finally, he turned to look at Harvey, and said, "If I say yes, you're going to make my life hell, aren't you?"

"Probably," said Harvey.

Mike shot him a glance. "No," he corrected, "he _won't_."

"Yes, actually, I will," Harvey shot back. "Mike, I told you this earlier, and I'll tell you again: _I care about you_. If Louis tries to make you go, I'll make him regret it."

"And if I don't want you to?" asked Mike, because, well, he didn't.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be stu—"

" _Stop fighting_ ," intervened Louis, a little annoyed. "God, you only just got together and you're already bickering like an old married couple."

"Have you come up with a decision, then?" Harvey asked, because he did _not_ want to think about marriage anytime soon.

"Yes," he said, and Mike's heart plummeted. "I mean, yes, I came up with a decision. The answer to your question, however, is no. I'm not going to try to fire you, or get you fired, or whatever. You're safe."

Mike closed his eyes, relief flooding through him. All of the tension in his body evaporated, and if it weren't for Harvey's grip on his hand he probably would have collapsed again. "Thank you," he mumbled, barely audible. Raising his voice a tad, he added, "But... why not? You can't possibly be okay with this."

"I think I've made it quite clear that I'm not 'okay with this', as you put it," Louis snapped. "However, it won't just be _you_ that gets in trouble. No, you just _had_ to drag the people I care about into this, had to make them lie for you. I mean, honestly? You don't deserve their friendship _or_ their loyalty. _You don't deserve this job_. But I'm not going to risk _their_ careers and _their_ happiness by going after you. They don't deserve that."

"Will you ever be able to forgive me?" Mike asked, again. Louis had never answered earlier, and— well, he needed to know.

"I don't know," Louis said, "and don't bother trying to force me to make a decision one way or the other. I'm angry, probably irrational— I wouldn't be able to make a good decision." He paused for a moment, letting that sink in before adding, "Right now, I honestly think that I would testify against you if — or rather, when — your secret comes out. Give me time."

Harvey cut in. "Louis—"

" _Give me time_."

"Okay," said Mike. That was a lot better than a flat out no. "But just for the record, Louis? I _am_ sorry. You mean a lot to me, and I would hate it if this— I mean, I don't want to lose you just because— look, I should have told you a long time ago, and I know that. So... I'm sorry."

"Why _didn't_ you tell me?" Louis asked him, not unkindly. He'd asked earlier, too, and he was sure he'd be met with the same answer, but Louis was still curious. "Did you just not trust me, or—"

"No," interrupted Mike. "It's like I said before. I didn't want _anyone_ to know. I mean, Louis, the only person I actually _told_ was Rachel."

 _Shortly after she was rejected from Harvard_ , Louis recalled. "Did you tell her to make her feel better?"

"Not exactly. I felt like everything was crashing down around me, and I was— freaking out, I guess. Rachel confronted me about how I had been lying to her, and I said something about how she didn't understand and that I didn't want to lose her, but... well, she managed to make me tell her anyways," Mike said, not meeting his gaze. He remembered what happened after he told her, and honestly, there wasn't much that Mike regretted more. "But uh, me telling her that I was a fraud, it wouldn't have been able to make her feel better. Unlike her, I _was_ accepted into Harvard."

Louis stared. "Then," he said, "why don't you have a degree?"

"I sold the answers for a math test to the dean's daughter," Mike said, "and as a result, well, he was being fired, so he made sure that I paid, too." It wasn't exactly the truth — _Trevor_ sold the test, he just supplied the answers — but it was close enough. "He guaranteed that I would never be able to go to Harvard, and— I mean, I could've gone to another law school, but I was so _devastated_ that I didn't even _think_ — I ended up doing a lot of things I'm not proud of, after that, and then... I met Harvey."

"What did you do?" asked Louis. He felt bad about pushing, he did, but 'things I'm not proud of' wasn't very specific, and, well, Louis was curious.

"I don't remember a lot of what happened. I was high, most of the time. But I remember feeling like my world was ending— and I got really depressed, I guess. I lashed out at Trevor, and god, I don't know why he didn't just leave. I treated him like shit for _so long_ , but... he still stayed with me. I think that's probably the only reason I'm still alive," Mike recalled. He didn't really want to talk about that, though, and definitely not when Louis was there. "But anyways, I— I only dealt once. I mean, I didn't really— Trevor couldn't make it so he gave me a briefcase and sent me to what ended up being a sting. I figured it out before it was too late, and... well, I walked right into Harvey's interviews."

"You were suicidal, when we met?" Harvey whispered. He couldn't believe— why hadn't he _noticed_? Harvey had always prided himself on his observational skills, but he had never even _thought_ that maybe—

"No, no, no," assured Mike. "Not suicidal, just... tired. I wasn't really looking after myself? I wasn't eating, or drinking, or— but Trevor made sure that I did. That's what I meant. And anyways, this was— before. I went to therapy, got antidepressants... I'm still on them, now. Don't know if I should be, but I don't want to risk a relapse, and I was never told to stop, so."

Harvey couldn't help but tighten his grip on Mike's hand. He never thought that telling Louis about his lack of degree would lead to— this. "You're better?" he asked.

"I'm better," confirmed Mike.

Louis was glad to hear that, he was, but that didn't change the fact that Mike was a liar. He wanted to believe him, but— he _couldn't_ , not totally, not yet. "What else have you lied about?" he inquired.

"Nothing," Mike said. "The only thing I ever lied about was that I had a degree, Louis. That's it."

"And I'm supposed to believe you?"

"Yes," he answered, simply. "And I'm sorry, if you don't. I never meant for you to lose your trust in me, that was _never_ the plan. If I had known— well, I don't think I would have done anything differently. Everything that happened, it brought me to Harvey; brought me to this," he glanced down at their entwined hands, a small smile appearing. "I regret hurting you, Louis, and I wish that it could have been avoided— but I wouldn't change a thing, not if there was a possibility that it would take Harvey away from me."

Louis regarded him, for a moment. A part of him couldn't believe that this was the same person that had been hired just a few years back. Mike had changed so much, and— it was for the better, he was sure.

"Yes," he said, finally, softly.

Mike stared. He hadn't, to the best of his knowledge, said anything that required a response. "Yes?"

"Earlier, you asked me if I'd ever be able to forgive you," Louis explained. "My answer's yes."

Smile widening, Mike let go of Harvey's hand and stepped closer, intruding into Louis' space. "Thank you," he murmured, and wrapped his arms around the older man, "Thank you _so much_." Returning to Harvey's side, Mike gestured upwards, and asked, "Do you want to be there, when we tell Jessica?"

"You can say no," added Harvey, "but if she knows that you're on our side, and that you're willing to change the bylaws— she might be a little less angry."

"Okay," agreed Louis. "Will Donna and Rachel—"

"No," interrupted Mike, "Just you." He wouldn't mind, of course, if they were there too, but they'd all spent so long keeping secrets from Louis— it just seemed _right_ for him to be there when they wouldn't be.

Louis gestured towards the buttons. "Should I send us up, then?"

"Yeah," said Harvey. "You should."

Mike should've been nervous — Jessica was the boss, after all, and it had never been a secret that she wasn't a fan of Mike working there — but he wasn't. With Harvey at his side, and Louis in his corner...

They were going to be just fine.

* * *

 **Seeing as season six of Suits aired today, I figured I might as well post something! I've been working on this for quite some time, and while I'm not necessarily in love with each and every word, I'm quite satisfied with the end result, and I hope you are too!**


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